


Insatiable

by Jaded_Girl_83



Category: Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (2003)
Genre: Budding Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Getting to know you, echoes of things to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded_Girl_83/pseuds/Jaded_Girl_83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genre: All ages, Marina POV pre-movie missing moment/sentimental vignette</p><p>Summary: How can you have everything and still feel like something is missing?</p><p>Disclaimer:  None of these characters or settings belong to me and I know you know that but I’ve got to say SOMETHING ‘cause I don’t want to get on Katzenberger’s bad side.  That guy is CRAZY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insatiable

_Marina bit her lip and shifted her weight from foot to foot as the barge finished docking.  The breathtaking city of Syracuse stretched out in all directions, boats and ferries impossibly high as they made their way through the locks and elevated canals.  Syracuse was known throughout the Twelve Cities as a marvel of engineering… or at least, that was one of the many things she’d learned while studying her future home._

_Future home.  The young Thracian noblewoman felt an entirely uncharacteristic flutter of nausea.  Seasickness wasn't usually a part of her vocabulary, but anyone would be nervous about meeting their betrothed for the first time._

_The ship jolted as it came to a full stop, and her father, the Grand Chancellor of Thrace, stepped over to her.  She laid her hand lightly atop his in high ceremonial fashion, and together they paraded down the loading ramp._

_A royal welcome awaited them.  Soldiers lined the edge of the docks and the main thoroughfare.  Noblemen and finely-dressed ladies assembled in the streets while throngs of normal city folk craned their heads out windows.  Front and center on the dock was King Dymas, tall, broad and regal. Next to him, standing erect and perfectly composed, was Prince Proteus._

_The lump in her throat returned. It took every bit of her diplomatic training to keep her eyes from darting over to her future husband, instead fixing her gaze on the party as a whole.  Near as she could tell, Prince Proteus was doing the same._

_She gave a deep curtsey as her father bowed, courtesies returned by the royal family and nobility.  She released her father’s hand as he stepped forward to officially greet King Dymas and stood quietly to the side, keeping her gaze upon her father and the king._

_From what she managed to glance in her periphery, Prince Proteus was doing the same.  He was very good; as well-trained in protocol and etiquette as she was.  That, at least, was a good sign._

_Unless it just meant that he was utterly stiff and dispassionate…_

_Her thoughts were interrupted as her father gestured her forward.  She allowed herself to be conducted before the king as she was personally introduced.  “May I present my daughter; her Royal Highness, Marina, Duchess of Thrace.”_

_She bristled.  Once again, her father had ignored her diplomatic status.  But King Dymas greeted her warmly, and she couldn't help but smile in response.  Feeling a bit emboldened by the welcome, she offered, “I am also a member of the Diplomatic Assemblage, Your Majesty.”_

_Had she imagined seeing Prince Proteus cock his head at her statement?  She certainly wasn’t imagining her father’s nervous annoyance behind her.  She didn't know why he was so upset; King Dymas was as open and friendly as a large dog.  “Is that so, my dear?” he responded, unoffended if slightly bewildered by the unsolicited information.  “How wonderful!”  With a wide-sweeping gesture she’d been told was characteristic to the monarch, the king motioned his son forward.  “May I present my son Proteus, Crown Prince of Syracuse.”_

_Prince Proteus bowed low, and as he straightened, the betrotheds got their first good look at each other.  His tall frame was lean with a wiry strength that was easily discernible.  His face was narrow and angular, but the dark eyes were surprisingly soft.  “Milady,” he greeted her with a warmth less demonstrative but just as sincere as his father’s._

_She felt a faint blush warm her cheeks and thanked the gods he wasn't as stiff as he had first appeared.  Prince Proteus bowed again to her father.  “My Lord Grand Chancellor, welcome back to Syracuse.  I hope you had an easy journey.”_

_Her father, in fact, suffered from seasickness, but gave the usual assurance of a pleasant voyage.  Further brief and banal pleasantries were exchanged before King Dymas extended the official invitation to the palace.  Her father fell into step beside the king, and Prince Proteus turned to her with a smile.  “May I have the honor?” he said, offering his arm._

_“Thank you, you may!” Marina chirped, trying to match his easy manner.  She took his arm and was escorted up the main thoroughfare towards the pair of waiting coaches.  The young prince shared his father’s sense of relaxed command and easy, open friendliness; a friendliness, she noted with some interest, that he directed towards the commoners more often than did his royal father.  The people of Syracuse were clearly even more devoted to their prince than they were to their king, and Marina wasn't sure if Proteus’ frequent return of their greetings was the cause of his popularity or simply his acknowledgement of it.  But through it all, he remained every inch the perfect prince- every word, every movement, every action carried out with absolute decorum.  Well-mannered, polite, and proper._

_Very proper._

_Perhaps just a bit too proper._

_Not that she was eager for him to belch in her face.  But if he didn't display some minute example of fallibility, she was going to get very itchy, very quickly.  She could feel her nerves start to chafe already._

_He opened the door to the second carriage and handed her inside.  She sat and smoothed out the wrinkles on her lap, still on edge.  But as he settled into the coach across from her, the prince gave a sigh of relief.  “Well, that’s one official welcoming ceremony over without incident.” At her curious look, a sheepish grin lit his face.  She instantly felt better.  “Not that I was expecting anything catastrophic; I’m just glad that I managed not to fall on my face.”_

_She barely smothered a giggle.  “You seemed very much at ease,” she said, more a question than a statement._

_“Oh, don’t believe it for a moment,” he laughed.  “I was concentrating very hard, I can assure you.”  He inclined his head, the momentary liveliness again retreating behind polite cordiality.  “Though I am pleased to have made a good impression.”_

_The formality didn't worry her as it had just moments ago, now that she had seen him laugh.  “Well, if we’re being completely honest, I was a bit worried myself.”_

_“Is that so?”  A merry expression danced in his eyes.  “I would never have known.”_

_“Oh yes,” she said in a serious voice.  “The bosun taught me at least a dozen different knots during our voyage.  I was afraid I would lose command of myself and show them all off to the king as soon as we docked.”_

_Another laugh briefly escaped before the prince regained his composure.  “Well, perhaps you can demonstrate your new skills at one of the royal banquets we’ll be attending.”_

_“There will be quite a few opportunities, I understand.”  She smiled absently as she gazed out the window.  “It will be interesting to compare a Syracuse ball to a Thracian one.”_

_“I visited Thrace some four years ago.  The countryside is quite beautiful.”  He looked over at her again.  “You are first cousin to Princess Khloris, are you not?”_

_“Yes.”  After a brief deliberation, Marina allowed, “But I’m not terribly close to her.”_

_“Ah,” was his sole, rather inscrutable response._

_“It’s not that I don’t like her,” she hastily added.  “We just never had much of the same interests.  She’s very much… well, a princess.  I was always more interested in having adventures and learning about the world.”  Marina winced.  “That sounded horrible, didn't it?”_

_“Not at all; I think I understand what you mean.  I've met Princess Khloris before.  She’s a lovely young lady.”  He glanced over at her, a smile in his eyes as well as on his lips.  “But she isn't you.”_

_That statement also sounded bad once you stopped to think about it, Marina reflected.  But the approval in his expression ensured that his meaning was abundantly clear.  “How long have you been in the Diplomatic Assemblage?”_

_“I've been training in the Assemblage since I was twelve.  I wasn't allowed to attend any official delegations until I turned sixteen earlier this year, though.”_

_“I think that’s wonderful,” he said with quiet enthusiasm.  “I hope you have many more opportunities to increase your proficiency.”_

_“So long as I’m_ doing _something,” she sighed.  “Too many people think that just because you’re a member of the nobility, you don’t have to do something useful with your life.”_

_She winced again, afraid that she’d been too harsh; after all, she barely knew this young prince.  But his smile widened and he leaned forward to respond in a confidential tone. “I completely sympathize.  I can’t stand being idle; I’m always pestering my father for tasks.”  He pointed to one of the locks under construction.  “Right now we’re testing out a new type of gear for the gates.  If it works, it will decrease equalization time considerably.”_

_“That sounds very impressive, Your Highness,” Marina smiled.  “I've been reading about your canal system and I would love to see it sometime.”_

_“It would be my pleasure to show you anything in Syracuse that you wish to see, milady” he said with a slight bow of his head.  His eyes met hers again.  “But please, I would very much prefer it if you would just call me Proteus.”_

_In that moment, in that simple request, the princely aura was dropped. Sitting across from her was a human being, like any other.  She smiled and responded in kind.  “Only if you call me Marina.”_

Off in the distance a ship bell clanged, and Marina awoke from her dream.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, strangely reluctant to go back to sleep as the memory from almost ten years ago haunted the edges of her vision.  The summer breeze blew the smell of brine through her open window, and she followed the hypnotic sound of the breakers to her balcony.  She leaned against the edge of the wall, letting her fingers brush against the balustrade.  It was a perfect night, with a clear moon shining through broken clouds.  She felt her skin begin to itch, and without another thought wrapped her robe around her and left her chambers.

The palace was utterly still as Marina silently made her way down the marble steps outside to the private beach.  The fine sand, cool and smooth as silk, pillowed around her feet until she finally reached the edge of the water.

The combers played with her toes as they surged and retreated.  The muted roar and hiss of the waves utterly enveloped her, and she gave a deep, strangely forlorn sigh.

Marina often felt seasick, just not in the way the word was normally used.  Her father had often commented on how well her given name suited her, and day by day she found herself more and more grateful for the frequent voyages between the Twelve Cities.

Marina smiled at the irony.  When it became clear that his daughter was far too headstrong to be a proper lady-in-waiting to her cousin, her father had placed her in the hands of the Diplomatic Assemblage, trying to find a way to occupy her sharp mind and sharper tongue.  His plan had backfired as Marina excelled in her studies and demanded opportunities to exercise her developing skills. 

At first she had only been allowed to tag along with the larger envoys, but as her surety and experience increased, she swiftly became indispensable to the Thracian political scene.  By the sixth year of her engagement, she had been officially named Thracian Ambassador to the Twelve Cities, and while Proteus had not been responsible for her current position, his public and wholehearted support of her work had greatly accelerated the process.

She began to walk along the shoreline, one foot in the surf, the other plowing through sand.  She was so grateful for Proteus.  She had always had a hard time fitting in as a child; too active and insistent for the girls, but not quite a sufficient tomboy to be entirely at ease playing among the boys.  She’d found something of a soul mate in Proteus, who carried that same air of isolation about him.  Being the impeccably-trained Crown Prince of Syracuse had resulted in a certain distance between him and the other children of Syracuse nobility, though stories of the infamous Sinbad proved that Proteus had had at least had one close friend growing up.

Sinbad’s disappearance had caused Proteus a not-inconsiderable degree of distress those first few months, though he’d tried very hard to keep it to himself.  One night, about a year after her first arrival in Syracuse, Marina had found Proteus staring out at the open sea, and he'd quietly confessed that, deep down, he had felt Sinbad putting distance between them, but had never expected him to leave without a word.  Proteus never again spoke of his grief at the lost friendship, though he would occasionally reminisce about past adventures. But Marina was enough of an expert in human nature to know that the sudden absence of his previous companion was another reason she and Proteus had bonded so quickly.

And so an arranged marriage flowered into deep caring, and they became not just fiancées, but best friends.  He occasionally attended her during delegations among the Twelve Cities, and she continued to learn about Syracuse and politics so as to become a proper queen.  Every day offered new challenges, and yet maintained a comfortable familiarity as well.  It was the perfect life.

Wasn't it?

A chilly wind blew in from the sea and she shivered, wondering why her back was so cold before recollection caught up with her.  She fingered the newly shorn locks of her hair, recently cropped close to her head.  The drastically unconventional style had caused a bit of an uproar in her social circles, and for the life of her, Marina couldn't explain why she’d dug in her heels and insisted upon it.  She had asked Proteus before she’d gone through with it, though.  After all, anything she did would reflect on him, and she didn't want to cause him any trouble.  But he had just smiled and said she had a right to her own hair and whatever she chose would be fine with him.  He was like that- accommodating and easygoing almost to a fault.  He never pushed her, never insisted upon his own preferences and would only argue a point with carefully considered reasons.  He was the easiest person in the world to live with.

Almost too easy…

She angrily ruffled her hair.  She couldn't believe she’d said that, even to herself!  Proteus was her best friend, and she loved him dearly.  Cared for him deeply.  She had been inexpressibly fortunate in her betrothal, and she  _was_  very, very thankful.

But the waves continued to crash against the shore, and she heaved another inexplicable sigh.


End file.
